


At Least Fold Them

by Aunatrix



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Being Walked In On, Come Eating, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Inspired by Art, M/M, Nipple Licking, Non-Explicit Sex, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 23:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13914831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aunatrix/pseuds/Aunatrix
Summary: Elrond wants to debauch his song bird. Glorfindel wants to chat. Lindir wants to disappear.





	At Least Fold Them

Lindir liked keeping things tidy, keeping things in order. Everything has its place. Instruments went to their cases, books to their shelves and most certainly, “Your clothes have a proper place, my Lord!”

He hated to interrupt his Lord, most definitely at a time like this. Elrond had him spread on his bed, in his chambers, treating Lindir and wishing to do a fair share of tasting. Robes bundled and pushed to the side, a splash of colours on the bed. If only his Lord would understand such disregard for tidiness left him in no mood for love making. There where clothes to take care of! Fine fabrics! He was certain the tailors did not intend for their work to be on the floor.

Most alarming, Lindir could not remember that last time another swept Elrond’s rooms. 

“Ah,” Lindir gasped, a diverting hand pulled aside his shirt and a tongue licked his nipple, “fuh-fold them.” His hand reached out, as if to grab the far away clothes that were joined by his own robes, his tunic and then his undershirt in quick succession. 

He was gasping now, making the smallest of mewling sounds. Elrond liked to try and see if he could trick Lindir into sitting on his Lords lap when he was feeling particularly playful. The blush of public affection did not compare to the shade Lindir took now. 

“Alright. My- Elrond.” Lindir corrected, remembering how his Lord disliked being reminded of the title in bed. Well no, he disliked it when it was during moments like this, tender and sweet. It was a favorite of his when Elrond wanted to play Lord.

The lust began to consume him, the heat spurred on by Elrond gave him pleasure and courage for Lindir would grasp and touch Elrond all he wanted. Elrond immensely adored it when Lindir became so, rutting into Lindir like a new born beast when those fingers tugged at his hair just right. 

Long he's suspected the blood of man lent him to a more aggressive love making, but not too much for the sake of his Elven ways. He also suspected the desire and middle day romps he partakes in when Lindir could be so convinced were a product of that pesky blood too, for few an Elven had such a fire in them as he.

It mattered not as he brought himself and Lindir to release, his release entering Lindir while Elrond gathered what he could that spilled on his song bird's stomach with his fingers to bring it to his mouth.

Lindir’s half closed eyes watched the little show, Elrond knew if such a fire existed within Lindir, they would be going again.

But it did not and Elrond was a patient Elven. He resolved to tidying them up a little and snuggling himself behind.

It was silent. Peaceful. To Elrond, at least.

“How long will those robes stay on the floor?” Lindir wondered, trapped in Elrond’s lovely embrace but fully able to see the mesh of fabric.

“I just put them there for now.” Elrond’s tired and mumbling voice assured him.

Lindir was silent for a moment. “Are you going to put them away?”

“I'll do that in the morning. It will be fine.” 

“Uh,” Lindir paused, a disgusted tone coming upon him. “No. No. That is not fine. I can't go to sleep knowing there are dirty clothes about the room, the room is going to smell like dirty clothes!” He spoke quicker as he went on, tensing as if it offended him personally. Which it did.

“It is fine Lindir. I'll do it in the morn.“

“No, no I'm doing it right now. I’ve got to.. FOLD THEM at least.” Lindir struggled in the hold of Elrond, his Lord not releasing him in any way or even attempting to. Much like this morning. “Everything has their place, shoes have their place, candles have their place and So. Do. Your. Clothes! Namely a dresser or a basket! My Lord release me!”

“Nap with me Lindir.” Elrond sighed but still did as asked, knowing to pick his battles. “Quickly then.”

His lovely aid dashed up and began to fold the garments, making it into a neat pile for washing, throwing on a light gown and then joining his lover in bed once again. Elrond had a smile on his face at the properness of the one in his arms. 

“Darling.” he breathed fondly, the half man caressing Lindir again, reaching up the gown. 

Oh how dirty it felt to have such a respectable man reaching under Lindir's gown.

The slam of the door was the tempest inside Lindir made audible.

Lindir wished to fade away as Glorfindel, the Balrog slayer, Elven Lord of old, stood there in all his blazen glory, unashamed at his interruption. If anything, amused. This could not be any worse but the blond also glowed, making his appearance all the harder to ignore.

“I have come for you, Lord Elrond!” Glorfindel declared, his brazen attitude giving Lindir second hand embarrassment. 

Lindir was frozen, panic washing through him as he blinked. Then tried to escape the hold again, this time to rush off. He also went to speak but Elrond put a hand over his mouth, firmly holding him captive as he murmured his protests into the hand.

“Funny, another was about to do that very thing.” Elrond carried on talking as if his aid and personal minstrel was not struggling in his hold to escape, though his voice took on an unhappy tone. Lindir thrashed about but was no match for the muscles of the warrior.

“I'll give you a moment to get dressed, Come on now!” Glorfindel clapped, rubbing his hands together and sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly.

Elrond struggled for a moment against Lindir’s attempts at escaping, grunting “I do not know if you have noticed, Glorfindel, but can you see what I am doing right now?” 

How Lindir hated the double entendres his Lord took part in when the whimsical side came out. Now was not the time Lindir tried to explain but he was unable to convey the message.

“Hm..” Glorfindel had the audacity to put a hand on his chin, observing the situation “you were about to defile the lovely Lindir? Perhaps a second time by the looks of his skin.” 

That damned slayer reached out to touch the exposed reddish skin of Lindir’s collar bone but Elrond slapped it away.

“No touching.” Elrond said, “Knowing this you’ve dwindled in my rooms still?”

“I have.” Glorfindel nodded but raised his hands in defeat, reaching out once again “I would hold my request if I get to plunder the sweetness of-”

"No." Quickly Elrond hit the hands away again but Lindir slipped out of the hold, bouncing around to the other side of the bed.

Now, lets us start with the knowledge that he was not as pure and delicate as most wanted to believe. Lindir was well aware of those who thought him fair and those who thought him desirable for a bed partner. The number only increased after many had heard the whispers of Lord Elrond’s young lover. 

Rumor had it that Lord Elrond was walking along in his gardens, following the song of a bird only to find a youth tending to his roses, the real song bird he was after. This creature could not be bribed to move closer to the Lord’s balcony with the bread in Elrond’s pocket though. They spoke for but a moment before the noble and honorable Lord ravished that youth in the gardens, unable to resist such a fruit that was ripe for picking. 

Lindir would deny the cry of outrage when he first heard the tale, a production of his bodies embarrassment and excitement. 

There was no way on Middle Earth he would be ravished in the GARDEN, on the dirty and, if that tale is to be believed, recently upturned ground. Beyond question he was worth at least a blanket and would not accept anything less. Lord or not, someone had to have standards. Starting with Lord Glorfindel.

“What is the issue, Captain?” Lindir wondered.

“It's that Chief Councillor.” Glorfindel pouted, crossing his legs, putting an elbow on his highest knee and his chin on his palm. “He refuses to see me and I wish to go over some things with him.”

“We all know you have no business bothering Erestor.” Elrond chided then looked over at Lindir.

It was then Lindir saw that his Lord had no clothes to speak of, the blanket was dripping more and more as the two spoke and moved. A fine form his Lord had, solid and strong. Perhaps he did not heal as well as others but memory of the rough skin across his own brought a shiver to Lindir.

With haste he went and got his Lord a robe at least, giving a cross look to Glorfindel who starred openly. 

“Glorfindel,” Elrond sighed, wrapping the cloth around him. “What is going on between the two of you is none of my concern. I'm not involved nor am I aware of any happenings.”

“I'll tell you," began he, immediately striking annoyance within the other two. "I kissed Erestor in the library, he was a great- as I always thought, and then he kicked me out for 'inappropriate behaviour',” Glorfindel mocked and began to ramble, Lindir and Elrond sharing a look as though to say ‘I didn't ask, you didn't ask, so why is he talking?’.

Sighing, Lindir stepped into the other room, starting a bath for he and his Lord. Hopefully they could continue what they started without the bothersome slayer.

**Author's Note:**

> I shall add the bath scene at a later date. It just doesn't feel very sexy right now. 
> 
> Spelling mistakes are me, I've tried to catch them all but the pesky things sneak by.
> 
> The clothes argument was largely inspired by: A Very Potter Musical Act 1 Part 5 at 3:50  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3c9K6MKCIs&t=230s
> 
> And the interaction with Glorfindel was inspired by an episode in the BL series Junjou Romantica.


End file.
